


Sunshining

by SmallSelfCritiques



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 18:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallSelfCritiques/pseuds/SmallSelfCritiques
Summary: The shared experience of John and Claire for another night
Relationships: John Bender/Claire Standish
Kudos: 4





	Sunshining

Cold metal bit into the tan skin of hands, the bleachers shaking ever so slightly with the wind that numbed John's bruises. The rain had just stopped, clouds separating to reveal a sky of orange hues and streaks. Patterns just as vibrant as the strands of hair he had his fingers buried in the night before. Well, almost as vibrant.

John could have had the time of day mistaken for dawn if it wasn't a Saturday and if he'd woken up after a string of inconveniences, a fight or a fatherly beating. However, he knew that it was just his memory manifesting in a day dream, replaying from this morning.  
A quick film reel or replaying record of pleasure in the threads of his head.

The sun was setting now, pillowing itself on a bed of soft grey clouds, nearly half asleep. In an hour or less, the stars would be the ones with eyes wide open and John would be just as awake too. There was nowhere else that he wanted to spend his alive night than in a particularly pouty lipped girl's bed.

-

Patience was a virtue, as many said and while Claire was trained in waiting, she was ridden with a demand for company. John had told her he'd be there soon, calling from a phone booth after detention. But "soon" was an agonizing word, it kept whispering doubts, thoughts that said he may not appear. 

Claire wanted the word "now" to be screaming in her ear, jolting her into the realization that John was, in fact, real. He was not just some conjuring of a deeply needed rebellious fantasy. No, he had been more than any imaginative dream could ever be last night.

Tangerine tints were fading and the way the clouds curled over the sky gave Claire shivers, nearly mistaking the clouds for his fingers and the sky for her hair. She fully opened the terrace doors where it was slightly ajar, walking to the balcony to fully feel the breeze of mid-April. It was getting colder by the second, a soft nip at her skin that didn't compare to John's teeth.

"I was just about to throw a rock your window's way!"

The voice below frightened her as the post-rain wind swept past her. "John! You scared the shit outta me!"

John was laughing, reviling in the moment, "Sorry, it was just the perfect timing!"

Claire watched as John smoked in between the pink tulips of the garden, just beneath. It was a sight for sure, a rugged boy in ragged clothes contrasting against the delicate tulips that swayed around his ankles. She was reminded by this, of the reflection in the mirror this morning, hickeys across her skin. It interested her, the perfect mismatch of rough and gentle.

-

Bricks were course against his hands as he maneuvered around the side of Claire's house. She had ordered him to meet her at the front door, an easy entrance as her parents were not home. He assumed they were due to the Porsche in the driveway.

When she opened the door Claire read him and answered his thoughts, "They're on vacation, went to the Bahamas. Probably to fix their failing marriage. They left me the car."

"You don't have your own?" John questioned as he stepped inside the large house.

"Not yet, I just got my license a month ago."

"I didn't expect you to get driver's permission so late."

Claire huffed as she locked the door, "Seventeen is not late. I might have failed the first few driver's tests and blew off some of the others."

"Remind me to never get behind the wheel with you again. Now that I have that knowledge, I just hoped that story you told in detention was a one off thing." John said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Whatever," Claire scoffed, "You don't even know how to drive, yourself."

"That's true, never really had the opportunity to learn. Considering I don't have a car, can't afford one and my dad's truck is off limits. He'd kill me if I touched that thing with a simple breath."

John mentally smacked himself, he had to stop a soon-to-be tangent in it's muddy tracks before he'd have to mop it back up. He didn't need to go on about how his father's white truck with rust stains had been used as an excuse to get a black eye five times over. The preferable choice was to greet Claire on a white horse, instead of a limping walk when injured. Alas, he was not a charming prince.

His abilities to travel from their night terror of a school to her internally bleeding home was good enough, although he wished it was a shorter travel. It wasn't any more than a fifteen minute walk but with what was waiting on the other end, he was inpatient. If he only had that stallion John could spend more time blanketing Claire's body with his own in the same manner that the sunrise covers the blue sky with thorough admiration. 

"Uh, you seem more like a motorcycle kind of guy," Claire tilted her head.

John could tell what she was doing because she had done it more than one. Claire was reassuring his insecurities with a simple sentence, why she cared to, he didn't know. Just staring at his dirt stained boots against the white carpet of her house reminded him that he was nothing but a smear on her pristine life.

"That's also true," John looked out to one of the large windows, watching as the stars began to triumph over their last loss of the night before underneath blue hues.

Claire eyed him with suspicion, which caused for slight annoyance within him.

"What?" John sighed.

"Are you hungry?" Thank God it was just an innocent question and she didn't press for deeper conversation.

"Sure."

"You say that a lot," Claire laughed, "I'm going to order take out, you want pizza or Chinese food?"

"The latter." John's stomach grumbled.

"Alright."

-

Yellow lights lit the basement where John and Claire decided to eat. She wanted to spoil him with dinner, there were two containers of noodles and one of rice, not to mention the shrimp dumplings and fortune cookies. Her own meal was reduced to just the noodles, to which John teased her for, she stole one of his dumplings for that.

"The sunshines only for those who embrace the moon." John scuffed as he read the paper freed from the cookie.

Claire laughed, "Those things usually don't mean anything."

"What did yours say?"

"Something about not taking the cleaness of love for granted."

"You're right," John threw the paper on the table before the couch, "These mean nothing."

Claire put the remaining food in the fridge, saving some for later if John wanted more. She stopped at the oven on her way out of the kitchen, reading the green dots that read the time, it was nearly ten. Not too late by any means, at least not for them.

It almost seemed too early as she traveled to the stairs back down to where John was watching "E.T. the Extraterrestrial" on VHS. That virtue from earlier needed to pay off, she just wanted to kiss John like she did last night. Claire wanted to feel her fingers trace the length of his jaw where his stubble pricked her fingers softly, that very texture she felt last night.

Conversations were filling, the simple things with John were already enough but Claire had an arid day. She would have picked him up from detention if he'd have asked but there was no phone call prior to him already being on his way and Claire didn't want to smother him. John liked walking, she knew, it cleared his mind and after eight hours with their antagonist of a vice principal, it was probably for the best.

-

"You always get emotional about movies, Sweets?" John asked, looking at her tearing eyes as the film ended.

Claire shook her head, "No, just this one."

"Really?" Out of all the films one could cry to, he didn't expect Claire to pick E.T.

"Terms of Endearment?" 

"Oh yeah," Claire laughed when she remembered forcing John to watch that with her. "That one too but not every time like this one."

John thought about when they watched the latter movie, he only promised to watch it because Claire might have seduced him. He thought he was going to get lucky and he almost did but he actually enjoyed the film, seeing himself in Jack Nicholson's character. So when it ended, he just curled up with her, spooned behind and happy about the simple fact she even wanted to watch anything with him.

He nearly said, "I love you," and yet he spoke a random articulation and the most idiotic string of words he could choke up. John said, "Cherry, it's a school night." He immediately cringed at himself but caressed her arm and put on a playful air to cover up his own romantic cowardice. She just laughed and kissed his cheek, they fell asleep no longer than ten minutes after the movie's credits.

"John?" Claire snapped him out of his memory, "Do you want to watch anything else?"

"Not really."

"Are you tired?"

"Would you be disappointed if I said yes?"

Claire bit her lip, "Maybe but I'd be okay."

"I'm not tired, Cherry, just messing with you."

"Oh." Claire's manner of saying that short word was more innocent than when she said it in detention.

"I don't want you to think I just want sex." 

That statement seemed to have surprised Claire. It actually surprised John, himself too. However, that confession was the truth and he didn't particularly regret saying it. Maybe just the timing.

"I didn't think that."

"Okay," Why was this awkward all of a sudden?

It wasn't like they hadn't had sex before, it occurred quite a bit actually. Claire was surprisingly a sex-pot, she could be shy, clumsy, or even pristine about it but she had initiated it more than a few times. 

Their first time, her first time, was that very day they met and John still questioned the intelligence of that choice. More on his part than hers, thank God it wasn't in the storage closet. Although he wasn't sure if the laundry room of her house was any better though.

John took her against the washing machine, not the most romantic but Claire didn't seem to care too much about that. Even when he murmured about it being too improper for her, she said a bed was too sophisticated for him. Neither of them could resist after that.

"I just didn't want any misunderstanding, Sweets."

Claire nodded, "Agreed."

"I want everything you want to give."

John's statement was firm as was his fingers when he trailed them up her arm, feeling goosebumps pucker up   
under his touch. Claire closed her eyes at the contact and nodded. The moment was so simple and yet he felt as if he was on a rollercoaster about to make him puke.

"I want to give you so much," Claire opened her eyes and affirmed. "I just don't know if you'll refuse it."

"Refuse it?"

"John, you deserve so much and you don't believe it."

"Can't deny that last part."

Claire frowned, "When I buy you food I see the way you look down, when I let you stay overnight I notice your distance."

"I can't give you anything back."

"I'm not asking for anything back but to just be with you."

John could only think of one thing to say, "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me," Claire took his hand and kissed his fingers.

"I'm just grateful."

"I am too."

A kiss was exchanged before Claire moved to take out the tape. John watched as she put the film away onto the shelf and switched the television off. It seemed they were about to abandon the basement.

"Let's go to bed," Claire whispered, her hands on his knees as he still sat on the couch. 

She was kneeling around half way through the set of kisses that followed. John couldn't help but feel like the sun was flowing through his veins, feeling a blinding form of desire that would have lit up the tar night. The heat became more suggestive.

John groaned when she pulled away, "Not before you give me some head."

"John! You pig!"

They both were laughing as they exited the room through the stairs. John wondered if this was what normal teenagers were supposed to feel like. He had no understanding of those who said highschool ended up being the best years. Up until now, he believed there was no truth to that for him, maybe Claire provided a flicker of light.

-

Claire's bed was warmer than when she woke up earlier that day, the heat being spread through the sheets by John beside her. She felt his breath on her neck, his hair tickling her as he spooned her. When he started to slowly suck on the skin just above the side of her shoulder, she wondered if his lips were the star that her entire system should be orbiting around. As if he was more vital than air.

"You're going to stay for tomorrow right?" She asks, not wanting to be alone for another night.

"If you want."

"Of course, I still have some of your washed clothes from last week," Claire randomly reminded him. She had allowed him to use the washing machine for his own clothes since the night of detention. There of course wasn't any specific reason for that.

"I'll stay tomorrow night, then. You don't have to ask twice."

He went back to kissing her skin, continuing with the freckles on her arm. Claire pressed the left side of her face into the pillow gently, sighing in pleasure. John then shifted her, pulling her into his arms.

When she ran her fingers through his hair, she could feel how it was still damp from their shared shower. John kissed her before getting distracted by her breasts for the fifth time tonight, taking a liking to her right one. She cradled his head in her hands as his tongue circled the sensitive pink bud there.

"John," she whispered, "We can't go again, we already took a shower after the second time."

"We'll just take another."

Claire pulled him back up, kissing him. "I'd be up for hours more of animalistic practices but I'm a bit tired. Which I know sounds like an excuse."

"You don't need to have an excuse to not be in the mood." John kissed her forehead, "It is pretty late."

Claire laughed in the near dark, the hall lights creeping from the small opened space from the door. "It is."

Their fronts were pressed against each other's once more. Claire let the tiredness settle in first but she knew John was just as exhausted. She was glad he wouldn't have a cruel wakeup call after hours spent with men of awful principals. John could stay here, safe with her for another night.

-

The curves of Claire was a wish granted to John by some higher power, he thought as he caressed her naked hip and waist. She was asleep, breath deep and body relaxed against him. What god decided to bestow such an amorous and perverted award to him for winning absolutely nothing, he wasn't sure. 

Her luxurious chest was pressed against John's, one of his favorite spots. It served as not only a precious area for pleasure but also a place in which he could drown his misery away. He'd spent much time weeping over his failures and mistakes as she dried his sea of doubt. 

Light from the rising sun bathed the pink curtains, escaping to take refuge on the surface of their exposed bodies. John wanted to fall back asleep but he couldn't, busy studying how the bright light was beaming off Claire's orange hair. He decided that this was what people were worshipping in church, just her hair, hair that remained just as vibrant as the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is loosely based off the Cream song Sunshine of your Love


End file.
